Day of the Yenta
by Smileyfax
Summary: Jane handcuffs Trent and Daria together so that they will admit their love for each other...or die trying.


Consciousness came very gradually to Daria, though the thudding in her skull did help her along some. She groaned as she opened her eyes, only to have her corneas battered down by the oppressive glare of the morning sun from the window falling directly on her face. She grunted and turned her head away from the infernal illumination.

It took her a moment to realize she was a nose-length away from the face of Trent Lane.

"Wagh!" she called out in surprise, suddenly all the way awake. She tried to jump out of bed, but this proved impossible for two reasons. For one, she was not actually in a bed, but had apparently slept on the concrete floor of the Lane basement.

For another, she was presently handcuffed to the scruffy musician.

Daria stared at the shackles in befuddlement. "What the hell?" she wondered aloud. She took a quick stock of herself: She was still fully clothed in her usual I-don't-give-a-damn-how-I-look garb, so if she and Trent had done anything erotic last night...Daria was unable to suppress the blush at the very thought. A quick pat-down of her pockets and squinty-eyed glance at the nearby surroundings did not reveal her glasses, though, which irritated her.

Daria sat down next to Trent and did her best to recall exactly what had happened last night. She remembered Jane calling her, telling her to come over, she had found the PERFECT bad movie for the two of them to watch. Daria had arrived and Jane had presented Daria with a glass of...something. The concoction inside smelled vaguely fruity, and a sip confirmed that there was something at least marginally alcoholic in the drink. Daria was reluctant at first to continue drinking it, but Jane had egged her on, and it didn't seem like a very big deal to Daria, so she had continued to drink...

Daria suddenly made the connection between her headache and the memory of last night. Of course. She grumbled, then began to poke Trent in his ribs. "Trent, wake up," she instructed him.

"Go 'way, Janey, it's not even noon yet," he mumbled, before turning over on his other side. Daria, not anticipating this (nor anticipating how strong Trent was), was suddenly pulled across him.

Now lying perpendicular atop her best friend's brother, she felt her irritation growing exponentially. "Wake UP, Trent!" she growled into his ear.

Trent sat up, inadvertently pushing Daria off with the action. "Whoa. Hey, Daria, what are you doing in my bedroom?"

Daria held up the wrist with the cuff on it. "What do you remember about last night, Trent?"

Trent rubbed his goatee, a thoughtful look on his face. "Hmm. I think practice ran late. Or maybe it ended early. Janey brought me a beer..." Trent suddenly winced as the mention of alcohol reminded him that he had his own headache. "Hey, we're in the basement," he observed. Daria rolled her eyes.

The two stood up and stretched out a bit. Trent looked around the room for Daria's glasses, and suddenly spied them sitting on top of the TV in one dark corner of the room. "Hey, look," Trent said, handing Daria a piece of paper which was weighted down under the glasses.

'Play tape,' the note said. It was unsigned.

Daria and Trent looked at one another, shrugged, and pressed the Play button.

After a moment, the screen revealed the basement, a few hours ago. Jane stood cheerily over the prone forms of Daria and Trent.

"Daria! Trent! If you're watching this, then you've finally woken up!" tape-Jane said cheerily. "I feel really bad about slipping you guys roofies -"

"WHAT?" Daria shouted.

"- but it was the only way I could think of to get you two handcuffed together. You see, you two love each other, even though you don't know it. So, I decided that I would handcuff you two together until you finally admit your love for each other."

Daria and Trent exchanged looks of horror, each slack-jawed from shock.

"Of course, I don't expect the two of you to do it right away, but I don't anticipate it will take very long...a day, maybe, three tops. Anyway, I'll check in with you guys later via Jane Cam - I borrowed your computer, Daria, and put it down there with you. Oh, and one more thing..." Jane approached the camera until her entire face filled the screen. "Don't try anything silly, or you'll re-gret it!" The last was said in a sing-song voice, with a coquettish smile.

The VCR clicked, and static filled the screen. Daria turned it off, then turned back to Trent. "We'll regret it? What the hell is Jane up to? She DRUGGED us?" Before Trent could answer any of Daria's rhetorical questions, she marched over to the computer and booted it up. A single shortcut labeled JaneCam sat on her desktop. Daria searched around furiously throughout her system's files, but Jane had done a good job of eradicating any sign of her email client, her instant messenger programs, and her Internet browsers - basically, anything she could have used to contact the outside world. Fear was stalking around in Daria's gut.

Resignedly, she double-clicked on the JaneCam link and, after a few moments, the live feed from Jane's room upstairs appeared. Jane was in the midst of painting a portrait, the contents of which were quite visible from the camera's point of view. The painting depicted Daria and Trent, nude, in a lover's embrace. (The more explicit parts of their anatomy, Daria was relieved to note, were not visible). After a few moments, Jane turned around and noticed that she was being watched. "Daria! Trent! How are you?" she asked.

It took Daria a minute to compose a sentence in her head that excluded the seven words you couldn't say on television. "Jane, would you be so good as to unlock the basement door and release us from bondage?"

Jane laughed aloud. "Oh Daria, I always loved your sharp wit, you know that? Do you really think I went through all the trouble acquiring rohypnol and dragging your fat ass down two flights of stairs just so you and Trent could be together forever?"

Despite her cynical outlook on life, Daria had to try very hard to suppress the urge to say, "My ass is NOT fat!" She managed it, though, and continued to drill into Jane. "Jane, Trent and I are just friends. Say it with me: juuuust frrrriends. Remember the multimedia project we asked him to help on, and how he kept blowing us off, and I eventually realized we'd be a terrible match because he's just a slacker?" After a second, she suddenly realized who she was handcuffed too, and blushed furiously in shame. "Oh God, Trent, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Trent shrugged it off. "Hey, you just told the truth. Don't worry about it." He turned toward the webcam. "Look, Janey, this isn't very funny. Like, at all. If Mom were here, she'd -"

Jane laughed again, a derisive bark of mirth. "Yeah, if, on the off chance mom was actually here, do you know what she would do? She'd give her damned butterfly speech and disappear for another month." Jane shook her head, as if to clear it of the distraction. "Look, just kiss, okay? Then you'll see what I mean."

Daria sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Look, Jane, you're going to have to let us out sometime. What about food? What about bathroom breaks?"

Jane smiled. "Well, Daria, let's just say you and Trent better hurry with the lovin'." She winked, took hold of the mouse, and JaneCam ceased transmission.

Daria frowned. "Come on," she said to Trent. She led him to and up the stairs, to the door leading out of the basement. "Open up, Jane!" she shouted, banging on the door with her free hand. She tried the knob, but it wouldn't turn. "Damnit, Jane, this is serious!" She stomped her foot in aggravation.

And the stair she stood on gave way.

She yelped as she suddenly found herself hanging by her hand in the dark area under the staircase, Trent trying desperately to pull himself back from the hole (and bring Daria out, to boot).

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she looked around. She suddenly spied a note on one of the walls. "I told you you would regret it," Daria read aloud. There was an arrow pointed down on the note. Daria looked down.

Just inches from the toes of her boots was a series of sharp objects. Forks and knives from the Lane kitchen, as well as the odd piece of broken glass and even a few pencils, freshly sharpened. They were all pointing straight up.

After Trent pulled Daria up, she told him what she had seen under the stairs. He nodded and wordlessly pointed at the stair that had given way under Daria. It became clear after a second that the stair had been partially sawn through.

A cold sensation spread throughout Daria's body. It took her a few minutes to realize it was unbridled terror.

XXXXXXXXXX

A few weeks ago, I was reading through some of the older selections of Outpost Daria's romance section, and it struck me how very silly some of them were. Especially the one fic where Jane conspired to handcuff Daria and Trent together until they confessed their love. So, I decided to take the concept and turn it on its ear.

(Oh, and my apologies to the author of that fic for stealing the idea and turning it into a Saw-esque tale of horror, whoever you are/were). 


End file.
